


Captive Hearts

by nonamouse



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonamouse/pseuds/nonamouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapper and Hawkeye make out while Frank is trapped under a bunk</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captive Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this back in the day under another name. MASH is not mine.

Frank isn't one to be a sneak, but this is for the good of the Army, maybe even for the good of Democracy everywhere. All he had to do was find something, some evidence that even Henry Blake couldn't ignore, that would get those two degenerates out of the Army for good. So far all he'd found was an inch of dust under Pierce's cot; at least two under McIntyre's.

Disgusting.

He hears them coming, managing to have loud footfalls even on loose dirt, their louder voices preceding them into the Swamp. Frank is still frantically trying to hide himself under McIntyre's cot when the door falls shut behind them.

"Martini?" Pierce says in that jovial, devil may care tone of voice reserved for a select few. Mostly people who are not Frank, which is actually quite a lot of people.

"Please." There is a moment of silence, broken only by the rattling of glasses. "You know, Hawk, I just realized that Ferret Face isn't here."

Pierce rattles the ice in his glass. "So it would seem."

Frank is slightly alarmed to note that Pierce's voice has taken on an odd edge. The cot creaks horribly under the combined weights of Pierce and McIntyre, and for a moment it seems about to collapse. Frank panics, torn between self-preservation and the Purple Heart he would surely receive for being crushed under an army cot in the line of duty.

Fortunately, or not, the cot holds, swaying dangerously to the right and now to the left, but always a tribute to American design and ingenuity.

They're murmuring to one another, now, things that Frank can't hear, although it sounds all too familiar. A boot drops on the floor awfully close to his head, and then another and an olive drab jacket and Frank is suddenly very sick to his stomach.

Now would be the perfect time to crawl out from under the bed and catch them in the act. It'd be blue discharges for sure and Frank would be the hero for once.

But for some reason he can't move. He tells himself he's only gathering more evidence; he wants to lay it on nice and thick for the General. It doesn't sound like when he and Margaret do it and as the cot above him shivers to a stop, Frank wonders why.

He hears Pierce murmuring, something about post op as he swings his legs over the side of McIntyre's cot and McIntyre laughs.

"Maybe I'll see you in the supply tent later, eh, Hawk?" And there is the wet sound of the two of them kissing.

Frank feels an odd pang of jealousy that he doesn't pretend to try and understand as Pierce leaves the Swamp without bothering to tie his boots. He lays there for a minute, until the tent returns to some semblance of stillness.

And then McIntyre's voice: "Frank?"

"Yes." He replies without even thinking about it.

"You can come out now."

Frank clears his throat and drags himself out in a most undignified way; offers McIntyre a sheepish smile and retreats, brushing the dust off his shoulders.

~Fin


End file.
